There can be little doubt that Floyd Mayweather Jr is the most powerful man in boxing. Richard Schaefer says so. Stephen Espinoza says so. And they are no busboys.

Floyd might have his business adviser, the one-time music mogul Al Haymon, doing the deals and signing fighters behind the scenes, but it is the 37-year-old champion, unbeaten after 45 fights over 18 years, who not only picks his opponents and the undercard but pays for them too.

No fighter has ever had so much influence – and there are a lot of boxers cheering for Floyd. "I think it's great for boxing, what Floyd's doing," James DeGale told me recently. "Fighters should be more in charge of their lives." George Groves, who is taking out a manager's licence and has no ties to a promoter, agrees. Fighters are tired of being told what to do, he says.

"I don't want to manage other fighters," Groves says, "but I want to try to look after myself. I'm at the stage now where I can negotiate myself a world title fight. When I become world champion, what do I need? I need opponents, I need someone to pick a venue, negotiate a date, work with a promoter, not for him."

Promoters will say, correctly, the fight does not happen without their expertise. Managers will argue they are there to check contracts and negotiate purses. TV executives say television is God. They all have a point. But it is the fighters who bring the show, and none makes the numbers click like Mayweather does.

Schaefer, Golden Boy Promotions CEO, reckons Mayweather's fight on 3 May against Marcos Maidana at the MGM Grand will be "the most expensive pay-per-view card we have ever put together and I believe the most expensive card ever put together in the sport of boxing". He adds pointedly: "I want to thank Floyd Mayweather for making this card happen."

Espinoza, who runs boxing for Showtime, Floyd's late-career paymasters, agrees. "I've got to thank Floyd for making the investment, and truly it is a financial investment, because, as Richard said, this is the most expensive undercard that we are aware of, possibly in history, and that money has to come from somewhere."

The last time Mayweather fought – against Saúl Alvarez nine months ago – celebrities such as Kobe Bryant and Magic Johnson asked for "comps", then offered the promoters $40,000 and more for a ticket. They all got knocked back.

While the buzz is not as big this time, they still expect to hit a sell-out gate of $15.4m (£9.2m). The pay-per-view will be substantial, too.

Nevertheless, when Amir Khan and his opponent Luis Collazo did their promotional bit in Las Vegas the other day to pump up Floyd's big day, there were 283 $1,500 tickets left, two at $1,000 and 188 at $750. The "cheap seats", at $550 and $350, were gone. There is a bit of slack there.

Is Amir happy playing second fiddle to Mayweather – especially after Floyd went back on his verbal commitment to make Khan his next opponent, then threw it open to a social media vote?

No. But he is bearing up. He will probably earn north of $1m against Collazo and then Mayweather will put him back in the queue for one of his three fights before he retires in September, 2015. There is nothing Khan or anyone else can do about this – except Maidana.

If the Argentinian were to do to Mayweather on 3 May what he did to Floyd's self-appointed successor Adrien Broner in his last fight, the entire boxing world would be thrown into confusion. Stranger things have happened.

Knockabout exchanges

The two scariest knockout merchants in boxing are Sergey "Krusher" Kovalev and Adonis "Superman" Stevenson. In any sane sport, they would fight each other. But, as we all know, boxing does not pass that test.

Krusher, who ripped Nathan Cleverly's title away from him in three rounds, calls Stevenson, "a piece of shit". Superman calls Kovalev "a bum". Some things in boxing are set in stone.

Hall nicks it on a cut

Tough luck for Martin Ward, denied a proper go at Stuart Hall's world bantamweight title when a bad cut on his right eyebrow forced the referee, Marcus McDonnell, to stop their bout in the second round in Newcastle on Saturday night. Ward, bidding to become the first gypsy to hold a world title, deserves another shot but might have to wait. Paul Butler, who also fights on BoxNation and is in cracking form, would love to challenge the champion. However Ward, the most gracious of athletes, says of Hall: "He is the best bantamweight in the world. Paul Butler is far too small in my opinion, Stu will keep his belt for longer."

Ward has to defend by 21 June.

How Jones nearly ruined the Ali story

In the course of researching a book on Muhammad Ali, it has been a pleasure to watch tapes of the great man's fights for the umpteenth time.

In coming weeks I will look back at a few of Ali's most important contests and how boxing history might have been considerably different but for a simple twist of fate here and there.

When he fought Doug Jones at Madison Square Garden in March, 1963, everyone wanted a ticket. Jack Dempsey, Gene Tunney and James J Braddock were introduced in the ring. More than 18,000 fans filled the famous venue - "for the first time in years", according to the late boxing historian Bert Sugar. Ali was as hot as Cuba. And there was not even a title on the line.

Jones was a good New York light-heavyweight, coming off the upset of 1962, a seventh-round stoppage of the heavyweight contender Zora Folley. He was a stone lighter than Clay. The myth has lingered for more than 50 years that Jones gave his celebrated opponent nightmares, and he did land a long right that caught Clay off-balance in the first round and hit him with some solid shots later on (they wore 8oz gloves). Certainly it was a tough night for the 20-year-old pup, the first real struggle of his young career, but it was not World War III.

Chris Schenkel at the microphone did not give Clay a break. Jones, he told viewers, took solid shots "like water off a duck's back." Some water. Some duck. Nor were the guys at ringside impressed with the unbeaten loudmouth from Louisville in his 18th pro fight. In a poll of 25 writers UPI reported that 13 had it for Jones, 10 for Clay, with two even. Their wire service rivals, AP, polled 15 of the writers. Curiously AP's result was 7-5-2 in Clay's favour.

The referee, Joe LoScalzo, gave it to Clay 8-1-1, while the judges, Frank Forbes and Artie Aidala, each saw it 5-4-1 for him. The crowd vehemently disagreed. I was still in school and did not see film of the fight until many years later, but even now, from the video, it is hard to make an argument for Jones winning more than a few rounds. What is as interesting as the result and the controversy is the social sub-text.

This was the first time Ali could not deliver on one of his famous stoppage predictions and the fans did not let him forget it at the end of the designated fourth. Boos filled the arena most of the way to the final bell.

Clay/Ali more or less had fight fans with him in his early career, but only as long as he lived up to his own hype. He was pure showbiz – just like the pro wrestler from whom Cassius borrowed his schtick, Gorgeous George, who was huge on American TV in those days. The fans could put up with "uppity" Cassius if he delivered but New Yorkers that night judged him to be a fraud when their hometown boy took him the full 10. After the Jones fight, the honeymoon was over. White America – as Ali would come to call his critics – would find other reasons to turn him into a villain.

George Chuvalo, who would give Ali a hard time over 12 rounds in 1972, told ESPN years later: "A lot of people thought Jones won the fight but maybe they just wanted him to win because they were from New York, or maybe they just didn't like Ali/Clay at the time. But I think Ali pulled it off in the late rounds."

Jack Nilon, Sonny Liston's manager of record and a front for the Mob, said after the Jones fight, "Clay will be Liston's next title opponent at Philadelphia in June or July – after we get rid of Floyd Patterson on April 10."

Liston destroyed Patterson – but Ali's next fight would not be against the champion. Henry Cooper was the next fighter to come within a bruised whisker of wrecking the Ali fairytale.

Mee on Duff

A final tribute to the late Mickey Duff by Bob Mee, who compiled his autobiography for him when another, frustrated ghost-writer lost patience with the gig. Bob finished the job in less time than it took Mickey to place a bet and it was still a terrific read.